


Nightmares

by StubbornBeast



Series: Foray into the Supernatural [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Comfort, Comforting Dean, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, Dean's Emotional Constipation, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, I dunno how to tag, M/M, Nightmares, No established relationship, Sam Ships It, Top Dean, Vulnerable Castiel, a bit of angst, blowjob, i got carried away, mutual comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornBeast/pseuds/StubbornBeast
Summary: I dunno what this is, but I got carried away. There was going to be smut in this, originally, but I felt like the end was more natural this way.Again, I'm pretty new to this fandom, so please be gentle.Feel free to find/bother me at my tumblr,here.Thanks for reading.xo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno what this is, but I got carried away. There was going to be smut in this, originally, but I felt like the end was more natural this way.  
> Again, I'm pretty new to this fandom, so please be gentle.  
> Feel free to find/bother me at my tumblr, [here](https://stubborn-beast.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading.  
> xo

Dean could hardly being to fathom what went through Castiel's head. 

Even before Cas was human, Dean had a hard time figuring out just what the angel was thinking. There was a constant barrage of mixed signals and misunderstandings between them. A few times, Sam had to intervene to actually keep the two from falling into a brawl inside the bunker's war room. The tension between them had been palpable back then and it only dissipated when they were too exhausted from a hunt to talk. Those were the quiet times of sitting on the couch or at the kitchen table, letting the silence settle thick around them. Those were the times of peace, when their minds were too tired to focus on their emotions and the air actually resembled something calm. 

Now that Cas was human, there had to be a learning curve. The misunderstandings were less frequent, but it didn't stop the newfound emotions from confusing or even overwhelming the previous angel of the Lord. Dean struggled to be patient, to be understanding that Castiel would need time to adjust. It was hard to not fall into old habits, despite how Sam tried to buffer them or tried to explain to Dean why things had to happen a certain way, or how his tone wasn't appropriate. Anything along those lines, Sam had made sure to comment on with a bitch face to match. Dean was trying... at least, he liked to think so. With his 'emotional constipation' - Sam's words, not his – it was hard for him to try and begin to understand where Castiel was coming from or what he was feeling in his new human form. 

Dean found that there was one thing he could help with, though: nightmares. 

The first night Castiel had experienced one, Dean had practically broken down his bedroom door because of the shouts echoing down the hallway. He couldn't forget the way Cas's blue eyes had been wide with fear, how he had practically thrown himself into a panic attack because he didn't necessarily understand his body's reactions to the nightmare itself. It had been awkward to sit beside the angel, who Dean had definitely _not_ noticed was shirtless when he slept, to try and comfort him in the aftermath. After getting Cas to calm down, Dean had gone back to his room without another word and slowly closed the door behind him. He ignored the twisting in his gut, chalking it up to indigestion, and had gone to bed himself. He had been ignorant in believing it would be a one-time experience. 

Castiel's nightmares almost became routine. 

At first, the angel was quiet about them. He'd come to breakfast looking tired, despite his sleep schedule, and sit in silence as the brothers discussed a new hunt or research to be done or even the weather. He'd leave the table and disappear into his room again, which Dean didn't give a second thought. Giving the angel his space seemed like the best way to let him work through the nightmares on his own. It was the fifth or sixth instance when, after Cas disappeared from the kitchen, Sam slammed his fork down onto the table and gave Dean a bitch look to rival almost all others. 

His own fork paused halfway to his mouth, his brow wrinkling. "What's up, Sam? Got somethin' to say?" 

"Are you not going to do _anything_ to help him? He's obviously struggling with these nightmares." 

"Why do I have to help him? He's an adult, he can handle this on his own." 

Dean had been mistaken; Sam's face _now_ rivaled the previous one as he stood up suddenly, dumped his plates in the sink, and stalked off. Dean sat there, stumped and confused, before he threw the rest of his breakfast away and washed the dishes in the sink, mumbling about cleaning and other intelligible things as he set them in the drying rack. Sam's words echoed in his mind all day as he tried not to think about how desperate he felt after his own nightmares, how the fear gripped him by the throat and constricted his heart. How could Castiel possibly handle something like that? Human emotions were still new to him – that was probably _why_ he was having nightmares. Silently, Dean made a decision about the next time Cas was woken by a nightmare. It was time for something to change. 

Unfortunately, Dean figured he would have more time to think, to plan. But Cas' next nightmare appeared that night and it must've been a bad one. The shouts had dredged Dean from a deep sleep, brought a groan to his lips. He rolled out of bed and scratched the back of his neck as he padded down the hallway, reaching Cas' door and hesitating for a moment. He knocked shortly after, his voice gruff from sleep. 

"Cas... Cas, you okay in there?" 

There was no response and, after a long pause, Dean opened the door. The small lamp by his bed was lit and Castiel was sitting up, face in his hands, a fine tremble to his body. An ache settled into Dean's heart as he approached, shutting the door behind him. He sat down, the old mattress creaking beneath him, and he mentally chided himself for not getting Cas a better bed to sleep in. "Hey... Cas?" He reached forward and tentatively rested a hand against the angel's bare shoulder, trying not to focus on the powerful muscle beneath the skin there. Castiel might not have been an angel anymore, but he had chosen a strong human form. The physical contact seemed to snap Cas out of it, and Dean found himself looking into those vividly deep blues. "Dean." Cas spoke his name like a prayer and Dean tried not to think of all of the nights he'd prayed to Castiel with the same reverent tone in his voice. 

"Do you... want to..?" 

"No." 

"Okay." 

Dean was partially relieved that Cas didn't want to talk about his nightmares. He'd made the offer because it was the right thing to do, but Castiel knew as well as anyone that Dean wasn't much of a talker. He was even uncomfortable making the suggestion. Luckily for him, Cas didn't seem to be comfortable talking either, and they both fell into a silence brimming with understanding. It lasted a long time, the only contact between them being Dean's hand on the former angel's shoulder. Cas was the one to break the silence, his voice still deep and wrecked, and he chose to speak when Dean felt the awkwardness settling around them. He stood to leave when the contact shifted between them, this time Cas reaching out to grasp at Dean's wrist. 

"Dean... please stay." 

He didn't need to ask twice. Dean swallowed heavily and nodded, moving back towards the bed and climbing beneath the covers that Castiel had pulled back, making him an offer he couldn't refuse. The hunter settled onto the mattress and glanced towards Castiel at his side, who had laid back and was staring at the ceiling. In the silence, the tension returned, but it was different this time. It was desperate and sharp, almost tangible. It only faded when Dean felt Castiel shift. He glanced down and saw that Cas had rotated his arm, his palm facing up towards the ceiling just like his tired eyes. It was an invitation, one that Dean knew he could take or leave. Even now, there was no pressure, except for the pressure settling in his stomach. How often had he woken up alone, sweating and shaking, from visions in his head that he knew would never leave? How often had he wished there was someone there to hold him, to comfort him physically when he sometimes felt like he was ripping apart at the seams? 

Dean reached across the small space between them and grasped Castiel's hand, squeezing it tightly. The exhale of relief that followed soothed the hunter's ears was enough to make him close his own eyes. Bad mattress be damned, he was going to be there for his friend. 

… and if they woke together in the morning, limbs entwined and bodies pressing together, Dean could find solace in the fact that he'd helped Castiel sleep through the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize I needed another chapter on this little drabble, but alas, the muse has decided otherwise.   
> The tags have been changed accordingly because there be smut ahead.   
> Enjoy!
> 
> xo

They didn't talk about it. 

The nightmares were still a mystery to Dean. He didn't know what they contained and he didn't know how to help them stop. That was something that bothered him; Dean wanted to help Castiel, but he was out of his element. If Cas didn't want to talk, then Dean wasn't going to make him. That would make him the biggest hypocrite of all time and he was certain lightning would strike him down should he attempt to force the information out of the former angel. He found that all he could do to help was what he currently was doing: getting up each night Cas texted him and padding the short distance to his room, letting himself in. He would always find the sheets rolled back and a spot vacant for him, which he occupied in silence. Sometimes, Cas would reach out for contact, and sometimes he seemed to just want Dean's presence. 

Either way, it wasn't something they discussed. They went about their business during the day: researching, hunting, gathering new leads. When Sam nonchalantly tossed out a comment at dinner two months later, kind words about how Castiel looked more well-rested now, it made both the former angel and hunter take a pause. Cas had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment, though he could still manage that head-tilt paired with innocent confusion. "I suppose I am getting more sleep now." It was a vague statement that had Dean wondering and paying attention. The dark circles _were_ starting to fade and he was rarely woken up by the shouts like he had been in the beginning. Cas's responses to his entrance had also been variable. Sometimes, Dean found him huddled on the bed in a fetal position, which was never fun to coax him out of. He'd even found him in the bathroom instead, having lost his dinner into the toilet after a particularly nasty nightmare. Now that he was thinking about it, however, Dean realized that those instances had been towards the beginning. More recently, it had been toned down. Occasional trembling and whimpering was all Dean had been really dealing with. 

That was a good thing, though, right? 

"Yeah, you're lookin' good... er, well rested, Cas." 

Castiel, for what it's worth, sold his look of surprise, though Dean could see the gratefulness there in his eyes. Sam looked suspicious, but didn't say anything, tucking back into his lunch of rabbit food while typing away at the laptop. A small smile formed on Dean's lips before he went back to his own lunch, the trio falling into a comfortable silence. Though, it didn't take long before the small voices in Dean's head began to nag at him, tugging and bringing ideas to light that he didn't want to think about. Of course, it was great that Castiel's nightmares weren't as bad. Of course, it was good that the former angel seemed to be adjusting to human life. It shouldn't send Dean into a nervous panic or make his heart race to think that he might not receive texts in the middle of the night anymore. He might not get to share Cas's bed and wake up with the comforting weight of him against his chest, warm and wanted. He was selfish for thinking those things, selfish for wanting those horrible nightmares to stick around just so he could have those moments with Castiel for himself. 

Dean eventually had resigned himself to the fact that it would end. He bottled the emotions and threw himself into their cases, into the punching bag, into working on Baby. He occupied his mind with whatever he could and tried not to notice that the texts weren't as frequent. There were more nights now that he was spending alone than he was spending with Castiel. He tried not to think about the absence and the loneliness that threatened to eat him alive, knowing that the resolution to those damned feelings was merely a few rooms down. It would be so easy to just get up, to check on him... make sure things were okay. Maybe his phone battery had died? Maybe he was so lost in a nightmare that he hadn't even woken yet? Maybe... maybe...? Dean's mind wrapped around a hundred scenarios that could have been the truth. 

None of them were enough to get him to walk down the hall.

* * *

Luck was on his side one night, when he woke up with sweat clinging to his forehead and a tremor in his muscles. The dream was lost to him, disappearing with his consciousness, and he briefly wondered what woke him from it. He slowly sat up, rubbing at the back of his neck while he listened. From habit, really, because Cas's shouts roused him from the deepest of sleeps in the past. It was surprising when Dean discovered that what really woke him had been a knock at his door, soft but firm. "-eah?" Was the yawned response, sleepy green eyes focused on the hunk of wood as it was slowly opened, a dark mass of bedhead greeting him before he saw the rest of the familiar face there. His consciousness was returning easily as he shifted to sit straighter, watching as Castiel closed the door behind him and approached Dean, looking nervous and... something else Dean couldn't place. 

"Y'okay, Cas?" 

"Y-Yes, I just... well... I couldn't sleep. I tried many things, but the cooking shows aren't working and meditation only made my body relax, not my mind. And I've found that it's easier when... well, while the nightmares do not seem to plague me as often..." 

It took Dean a long moment to wrap his head around the words coming from Cas's mouth, but once he started to process them, he realized what Cas was trying to say – the reason Cas was nervous to be there. He, a former angel of the Lord, was in Dean's room because he couldn't sleep. Not only that, but he was attributing his lack of sleep to Dean _not being there_. "You sayin' you wanna sleep in here, Cas?" 

The dark haired man looked uncomfortable, but resigned. "I understand that it is inconvenient. I don't know why I asked; I'm sorry for waking you, Dean, I'll just go-" 

"Get over here." 

Cas looked startled as Dean shifted over on his memory foam, patting the spot beside him before tugging the sheets back as the other man had done for him so many times before. Castiel hesitated for just a moment before following directions, climbing into Dean's bed and laying there as stiff as a board. Dean understood why: he felt the same way the first time Cas had requested his presence to help him sleep. The hunter knew they were past this point, though, and he immediately moved to wrap an arm around the former angel and tugged him against his frame. Cas was shaking slightly, possibly the aftermath of whatever nerves he had to muster to get himself into Dean's room and space. Dean felt sympathy for the other man, rubbing a hand gently along his muscled back. 

Castiel had been an angel of the Lord, a warrior. He had fallen, he had been possessed, he had been beaten to Hell and back more than once. How often had Castiel been the one who had to be strong? How often was Castiel the rock that others held onto? Dean knew he was guilty of holding on, knew he was guilty of adding to the weight Cas carried on his shoulders. It was a miracle the man hadn't broken under the pressure, and maybe that's what his subconscious mind was catching him up to. Castiel was more vulnerable now than he ever had been and his mind was becoming his worst enemy. He needed support, not to be the one doing the supporting. 

It was Dean's turn to carry some of that weight. 

One arm swiftly became two as Dean shifted onto his side, tugging Castiel close to his body and entwining their legs together slowly. The other man lifted his head, eyeing Dean wearily and with caution. It hurt Dean to see that look on his face because he knew that it was his own fault that Castiel felt that way. He could make it up to him, and he would do his best. Green eyes caught heavy blue ones and held them there, tiredness forgotten as Dean pressed his forehead to Castiel's. He couldn’t tell if it was his own heartbeat in his ears or the other man's, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the vulnerable man in his arms, the one who needed to be taken care of for the first time in probably a long time. 

Castiel was the first one to make a move since Dean was too lost in his thoughts. He felt chapped lips pressing to his own, hesitant and soft, and he met back with the assuredness they both needed in that moment. The nervousness faded swiftly as tentative hands gained confidence, exploring tight skin and solid muscle, where the body was soft and vulnerable, and where they'd been hurt by others. Their touches were full of trust and adoration, almost so much that Dean felt overwhelmed by the feeling. Luckily, the firm weight of Castiel's erection against his hip brought him back to the present and kept him there. "Cas." His name was a hot breath against the dark-haired man's cheek, with a whimper being the only response. Castiel's hands were tight and clinging, gripping onto Dean's shoulders and arms, his ribs and waist, like Dean could disappear right from his sight. 

The hunter wasn't going anywhere. 

His lips explored Cas's strong jaw, not minding the stubble there as he licked at the junction of his throat. He left a hot trail down his throat and into his collar, where he nipped above the loose neck of the shirt blocking his path. It took a moment of adjustment and some shifted limbs before Dean was graced with the beautiful vision of Castiel's naked chest. He'd seen it plenty of times before, sure, but it was different now. In the dim light of his bedroom, the shadows played across his skin and where his muscles dipped. Dean placed a kiss in each one, attempting to chase them away as he made his way down Castiel's body. The former angel was letting out breathless noises, his frame taut beside Dean's and his erection straining against the shorts he'd worn to sleep. Dean pressed gently into the man beside him, hands coaxing him onto his back so he would be more comfortable. Cas's head fell back onto Dean's pillow and the hunter paused for just a moment to take in the vision before him. 

Dark hair a mess against his pillowcase, those chapped lips split and parted with heady moans, the column of his throat stretched up as he fought the undeniable desire pulsing through his veins. He was a beautiful vision and Dean was lucky to have him. 

"Dean." 

Apparently, he'd been staring too long. He focused down at Cas, who was watching him with a slight pinkened hue to his cheeks. "Don' worry Cas. I've got you." He resumed his trail down, teasing the rim of the former angel's naval before slowly tugging down his shorts and removing them completely. Castiel was beautiful, everywhere. His cock curved slightly to the left, red and leaking, with a thick vein along the underside. The base was covered by a thatch of dark hair, as wild as the hair on his head. Licking his lips, Dean dove in for a taste, soon encompassing Castiel's cock with his mouth. Dean's broad hands had to spread over Castiel's angled hips, holding him down as he fought the urge to thrust up into the warmth of the mouth surrounding him. 

There was still a tremor to his body, but this time, it was for a different reason. 

Dean focused on the head, teasing the liquid from it with his tongue while one of his hands dipped to explore Castiel's thick thighs. He massaged and squeezed the muscles there, before teasing the bottom of one pert cheek. It took a moment to delicately trail inward, teasing the sensitive skin behind the balls before finding the ring of muscle he'd been looking for. What Dean hadn't been expecting was just how close Cas had been to an orgasm. A brief swipe of the pad of his finger against that muscular ring was all it took for Castiel to seize up, his cock to twitch hard on Dean's tongue, and for his release to rush into his mouth. The salty musk filled his senses as he swallowed, licking Cas clean as he slipped his mouth away and removed his hand. The tremors were gone; the other man's body was relaxed and limp on the bed, flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat. 

He was still the most beautiful thing Dean had seen. 

He didn't admit it, though. No, instead, Dean made sure to give Cas what he needed. "I've got you," he murmured again, his voice gruff as he shifted his own body down and curled the dark-haired man against his chest. He didn't mind the sweat; they could shower in the morning. Cas's head rested close to his heart, one hand near his face while the other was tucked beneath his body. "But... Dean, you-" 

"Shh. It's fine, Cas. Let's see if you can sleep." 

It wasn't about Dean. This was about Cas. The man deserved to have some of the weight lifted from him, to not have to worry about something for once in his life. Getting to watch the man he cared for falling asleep easily against his chest and the worry lines fade from his face was worth it. Dean would be able to rest easy knowing that Castiel was free from the burdens of his life, even if it was just for a few blissful hours. Dean would be happy as long as Cas was happy.


End file.
